Othello

prize s [175] the foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.
    OTHELLO. I would have him nine years a-killing; a fine woman, a fair woman, a sweet woman!
    IAGO. Nay, you must forget. [180]
    OTHELLO. And let her rot , and perish , and be damned to-night, for she shall not live; no, my heart is turn’d to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand: O, the world has not a sweeter creature, she might lie by an emperor ’s side, and command him tasks. [185]
    IAGO. Nay, that’s not your way.
    OTHELLO. Hang her, I do but say what she is: so delicate with her needle, an admirable musician, O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear; of so high and plenteous wit and invention ! [190]
    IAGO. She’s the worse for all this.
    OTHELLO. A thousand thousand times: and then of so gentle a condition!
    IAGO. Ay, too gentle.
    OTHELLO. Ay, that’s certain, but yet the pity of it, [195] Iago: O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
    IAGO. If you be so fond over her iniquity , give her patent to offend, for if it touches not you, it comes near nobody.
    OTHELLO. I will chop her into messes ... Cuckold me! [200]
    IAGO. O, ’tis foul in her.
    OTHELLO. With mine officer!
    IAGO. That’s fouler.
    OTHELLO. Get me some poison, Iago, this night; I’ll not expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty [205] unprovide my mind again, this night, Iago.
    IAGO. Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminate d .
    OTHELL O. Good, good, the justice of it pleases, very good. [210]
    IAGO. And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker : you shall hear more by midnight.
    OTHELLO. Excellent good. (A trumpet within.) What trumpet is that same?
    (Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.)
    IAGO. Something from Venice, sure; ’tis Lodovico, [215]
    Â Â Â Â Come from the duke, and see, your wife is with him.
    LODOVICO. God save the worthy general!
    OTHEL LO. With all my heart, sir.
    LODOVICO. The duke and senators of Venice greet you.
    (Gives him a letter.)
    OTHELLO. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
    (Opens the letter, and reads.)
    DESDEMONA. And what’s the news, good cousin Lodovico? [220]
    IAGO. I am very glad to see you, signior: ...
    Â Â Â Â Welcome to Cyprus.
    LODOVICO. I thank you; how does Lieutenant Cassio?
    IAGO. Lives, sir.
    DESDEMONA. Cousin, there’s fall’n between him and my lord [225]
    Â Â Â Â An unkind breach , but you shall make all well.
    OTHELLO. Are you sure of that?
    DESDEMONA. My lord?
    OTHELLO (reads). “This fail you not to do, as you will ...”
    LODOVICO. He did not call, he’s busy in the paper: [230]
    Â Â Â Â Is there division between thy lord and Cassio?
    DESDEMONA. A most unhappy one; I would do much
    Â Â Â Â To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
    OTHELLO. Fire and brimstone !
    DESDEMONA. My lord?
    OTHELLO. Are you wise?
    DESDEMONA. What, is he angry?
    LODOVICO. May be the letter mov’d him; [235]
    Â Â Â Â For, as I think, they do command him home,
    Â Â Â Â  Deputing Cassio in his government.
    DESDEMONA. By my troth , I am glad on ’t.
    OTHELLO. Indeed!
    DESDEMONA. My lord?
    OTHELLO. I am glad to see you mad.
    DE SDEMONA. How, sweet Othello?
    OTHELLO. Devil! [240]
    (Striking her.)
    D ESDEMONA. I have not deserv’d this.
    LODOVICO. My lord, this would not be believ’d in Venice,
    Â Â Â Â Though I should swear I saw ’t: ’tis very much,
    Â Â Â Â  Make her amends , she weeps.
    OTHELLO. O devil, devil!
    Â Â Â Â If that the earth could teem with women’s tears, [245]
    Â Â Â Â Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile:
    Â Â Â Â Out of my sight!
    DESDEMONA. I will not stay to offend you.
    (Going.)
    LODOVICO. Truly, an obedient lady:
    Â Â Â Â I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
    OTHE LLO. Mistress! [250]
    DESDEMONA. My lord?
    OTHELLO. What would you with her, sir?
    LODOVICO. Who, I, my lord?
    OTHELLO. Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn:
    Â Â Â Â Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
    Â Â Â Â And turn again, and she can weep, sir, weep; [255]
    Â Â Â Â And she’s obedient, as you say, obedient;
    Â Â Â Â Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.
    Â Â Â Â Concerning this, sir, – O well-painted passion! –
    Â Â Â Â I am commanded here: ... get you away,
    Â Â Â Â I’ll send for you anon ... Sir, I